


Roots of Blood

by TheSortingHatsSunglasses



Category: Chronicles of Narnia (Movies), Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-15 16:19:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7229725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSortingHatsSunglasses/pseuds/TheSortingHatsSunglasses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Over the mountains she could see flashes of lightning and a few seconds later the rumble of thunder could be heard. The storm was moving closer. The girl spurred her steed onwards and up the crest of a gentle hill. At the top she looked down into the valley and there it was, flags flapping in the wind and the last of the evening sunlight dancing on the highest towers. Anvard." </p><p>Slaves. Dryads. Werewolves. Rebellion. War. Passion. Love? They thought they were in control. Seven years is a long time, but it's all only just begun for the new Kings and Queens of Narnia. Will they keep it together even when it all seems to be falling apart? </p><p>[Peter/OC] [Eventual Edmund/OC and Lucy/OC]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The wonderful world of Narnia belongs to CS Lewis. This is a fanfiction, written by a fan.

_It was cloudy; the sky caked in the condensed water. Despite this, by some beautiful chance, the sun had found a small gap in this wall and the golden light of dusk was bathing the forest leaves in a holy glow, turning them from a dull green to a wonderful golden yellow. This enlightened colour was at odds with the grey of the grim sky behind it. It made for an eerie scene; the pious colouring of the land at the mercy of the menace of the darkening sky._

_There would be a storm._

_And indeed, barely a moment after the sun had fully disappeared behind the horizon, taking with it the last of the golden light, there was a low rumbling from the sky and the wind rose up a notch or two, and then the first droplets of rain fell, splattering down into the grey forest and onto the dry earth._

_And amidst the beginning of the impending chaos the sounds of thudding horse hooves could be heard as a young girl riding a silver white mare came cantering out of the forest. The horse was obviously frightened of the sound of the thunder for her nostrils flared and she kept on whinnying nervously._

" _Calm down Silver," the girl said, though she also looked worried by the oncoming storm, "It can't be far now. The deer said that if we went directly through the forest and headed towards the mountains we wouldn't be able to miss it."_

_What this girl was trying to find was Anvard, the capital of Archenland and the castle where she hoped to find some sort of sanctuary. According to the deer she had spoken with earlier that afternoon, all she had to do was head towards the mountains and she 'wouldn't be able to miss it'. At the moment however, she was having trouble finding even a hint of it._

_Silver splashed across a bubbling stream and they both came out the other side completely drenched. Over the mountains she could see flashes of lightning and a few seconds later the rumble of thunder could be heard. The storm was moving closer. The girl spurred her steed onwards and up the crest of a gentle hill. At the top she looked down into the valley and there it was, flags flapping in the wind and the last of the evening sunlight dancing on the highest towers. Anvard._

_Ellen Galion, the slave girl from Tashbaan, let out a sigh and smiled. She had made it._

* * *

King Lune of Archenland, the once merry monarch, wore black robes as a sign of mourning. His son, Prince Cor, the Crown Prince, was gone, kidnapped by Lord Bar. Lune had sailed out after the treacherous Lord as soon as he'd realised what had happened, and had defeated him in a deadly sea battle. But when they had searched the traitor's ship, from top to bottom, there had been no sign of his son. He was gone and beyond doubt dead. Lune stared out of the window, watching the sun disappear beyond the western horizon. Rain was hammering down on the window and occasionally there would be a flash of lightning above Mount Pire, followed by the rumble of thunder.

Lune raised his head and turned from the window at the crying of the baby. His other son, the mischievous Prince Corin was awake and wailing to be fed. The wet nurse awoke from her sleep in the chair by the fire and was startled to find the King in the same room as her.

"Your majesty," she said, standing up to curtsey. She looked at him and then to the prince, "Won't you hold him, your majesty? He needs his father more than ever now that - " She cut off.

_Now that he is alone,_ Lune finished her sentence in his head, _now that he has lost his twin brother._

"Your majesty," She gave an awkward curtsey and hurriedly left the nursery. Corin's wailing continued.

Lune walked over to his son. His only son. Even in the early months, Corin was more hassle than Cor. He would wake up in the middle of the night whilst Cor was sleeping and scream and scream until they both were awake and wailing, and the whole of the castle was woken by their cries. He looked down at him, the little tyke was crying, his face scrunched up in upset. Did he realise that he had lost a brother? Did he miss the warmth of his twin beside him? Was that why he cried so?

Lune bent down and picked up his child. He rocked him in his arms and made cooing noises to quieten him.

"My dear boy," he said softly, tears now running down his face, "My sweet sweet child." Corin slowly stopped crying and instead stared as if fascinated, up at his father. His podgy arms reached up and tugged at the King's beard. Lune chuckled at this and gave him a kiss on the forehead.

"What are we going to do with you, hey?" He smiled, "Now go to sleep." Corin smiled as Lune continued to rock him slowly to sleep.

Suddenly there was a loud knocking on the door. Corin awoke and started to cry again and Lune turned to the door in surprise. Who could it be? The wet nurse knew not to knock so loudly and who else would come to the Royal Nursery at this hour?

"Your majesty?" It was his servant, Turil the faun, "Your majesty, are you in here?"

"Yes Turil," said Lune, "Come in but do be quiet; I had almost got him to sleep." The door opened and in walked a faun with ginger hair and hooves of the palest white.

"I am sorry, your majesty." Answered Turil, "But we have a..." He paused, searching for the right word, "A guest."

"A guest?" Lune asked, curious.

"Yes," said Turil, "A young Calormen girl by the looks of it – seeking refuge from the storm." Lune's face darkened. It was the Tisroc who had been behind the kidnapping of Cor; the Calormen were no friends of Archenland.

"Send her away."

"But your majesty," Turil said, "The weather; we cannot leave a young lady outside in a storm like that. It would not be right." Lune turned to look out of the window. The rain was much heavier than it had been before and the lightning flashed across the sky so much closer. He looked down at his son who had stopped crying and was instead staring up at him with an expression of wonder.

"She's quite distressed, raving about slavers and kidnapped children." Turil said quietly, watching his King thoughtfully, "She is only a child herself and seems frightened of the storm. Her horse is in need of looking after, a nervous creature, who seems to be mainly skin and bone. I don't know what horrors they have been through but they are in dire need."

"Of course she must stay here, at the castle. I do not know what came over me," Lune said, still looking down at the Prince Corin who was slowly falling back to sleep again, "Sort out a chamber for her and make sure her horse is well tended."

"Yes your majesty," Turil said, and quietly left the nursery.

Lune went over to the cot and placed his remaining son gently down. Prince Corin gave a small little snuffle and turned in his sleep. Lune looked down at him tenderly.

"Well now Corin," he said softly to his son, "It appears we have a guest." He moved a whisp of hair out of his son's face, "Perhaps she may have news of Cor?" He sighed and shook his head at his own foolishness, "Of course she won't. It is curious though," He said quietly, turning back to look out of the window at the lightning and the rain, and to where Mount Pire stood, outlined through the gloom by the flashes of lightning, "It is curious that she should be so very far from home."


	2. Breakfast in a Castle

Ellen woke up. She was lying on a four poster bed in a large room with a huge fireplace. She closed her eyes and allowed the events of yesterday evening to fill her mind.

She had underestimated the distance to Anvard and had arrived late in the night. Silver, her horse, had been galloping out of control from fear of the lightning and she had almost fallen off five times. They had arrived at the gates to the castle and she had banged on the door in earnest, the lightning still flashing around her. A centaur had opened the gates for her and she had trotted over the drawbridge. A young faun with red hair had shown her into a small room with a fire and had left her with some food and drink. She vaguely remembered trying to explain her predicament to him but he had seemed worried by her distress. When he returned he had been smiling and had taken her gently by the arm and shown her to this room. She remembered being helped into a night dress by a willowy young woman and then falling onto this bed in exhaustion.

What a night. Ellen sighed... then sniffed; she could smell something wonderful. Her stomach gurgled and she realised what it was. It was the smell of baking bread. She quickly got out of bed and stretched before looking around the room she was in.

It was large and well furnished with a huge wardrobe of solid oak in the corner and a chest of drawers to match beneath the window. In the corner was a wash basin with a jug of water beside it and next to the fire was a chair and a footstool. Someone had obviously already come in this morning because her curtains were drawn back to reveal windows with little glass panes in them. She walked over to them, entranced by the view, all thoughts of breakfast evaporating from her mind.

The mountains were tall and soaring. Looking at them made her feel dizzy. She tried to look for where the mountain pass was but couldn't work out where it could be through all the forest and greenery. That was where she was heading: up and over the mountains, and then down into the land beyond, into Narnia. She took a deep breath in and drew the curtains closed before turning away from the window, walking over to the chair by the fire where her tunic and trousers had been laid out for her. They were dry now and although they weren't the cleanest, they were all the clothes she had bar the white cotton nightshift she had slept in.

Ellen washed at the basin and then pulled on her grubby garments. Her belt and sword lay on the footstool and she attached them around her waist before sitting down to put her worn boots on. That was when there was a knock on the door and in came the same willowy young woman who had helped her the night before.

"Good morning," Ellen said. The woman laughed and told her that it was gone midday.

"But I have brought some bread for you," she added and went outside before returning with a tray of freshly baked bread and butter.

"Thank you," Ellen said and they sat down by the fireplace, the tray on Ellen's lap.

"So what is your name?" The willowy young woman asked.

"Ellen Galion," she replied, "What's yours?"

"I am Mahlirra, of the Mountain Slopes," she answered, "But what is your story? What has happened to you?"

"Oh," Ellen said and sighed, "It's a long one really. I'm from Calormen. Well, no I'm not actually; I was a slave there. I was a slave there since I was very young. I can hardly remember my home land."

"What is your home land?" Mahlirra asked, curious, "Is it over the sea, to the east? Where they say that the water is sweet?"

"No," Ellen said, laughing, "But who told you that the sea gets sweet? They must have been pulling your leg!"

"Ah but it is true," Mahlirra said, earnestly, "To the east is Aslan's country and when he cries, the tears of a Lion, they sweeten the sea so that the eastern ocean is sweet!"

"Well," Ellen said, "One day I shall have to prove you wrong. I've been to the eastern coast and the water is not sweet. Just salty and disgusting!"

"Ah but that was in the South," said Mahlirra knowledgably, "It is only the sea that sits between Narnia and Aslan's country which is sweetened by his tears, for in Narnia sits the High King Peter and his brother and sisters. It is for them that the water is sweet. For they are the ones who destroyed the White Witch."

"Is she this sorceress that I have heard so much about?" Ellen asked, curious, "She who ruled the north in a storm of never ending winter?"

"Well," said Mahlirra slowly, "It turns out that that 'storm of never ending winter' was less never ending and more... well, more end-able I suppose."

"I am going there."

"To Narnia?"

"Yes," Ellen said, "I must."

"Why?"

"To find my brother." Ellen paused. Was she really going to tell Mahlirra? She hardly knew her yet there was something distinctly trustworthy about her. "He is the only family I am certain I have. And when Aslan came to me - "

"You have seen the Great Lion himself?!" Mahlirra said, in awe.

"Yes," Ellen said, "He came to me the day I decided to run away from my masters. He told me I would find what I was looking for to the north, in Narnia. So I set out and have been through many terrors and hardships to get this far. And now I am so close. Just one mountain range to cross."

"The mountain pass." Mahlirra said, smiling, "The slopes of the mountain are where I come from. My people are the forests there and - "

"Wait," Ellen said, a little confused, "Your people _are_ the forests?"

"Yes," said Mahlirra, "My father is a dryad. He is a man of the Willow and his heart tree is deep in the forest by a pool of water so clear and pure that at first sight it looks like there is another willow tree growing down into the sky. But it is only his reflection."

"Oh my," said Ellen, completely amazed. She had met dwarves, fauns, and even a centaur, but never before had she met a dryad, "So why are you so far from the forest?"

Mahlirra sighed and stood up, going over to the window, "I am not a true dryad. My mother was a human like you, and my home was too still for me, too quiet. My father told me it was the human in me, itching to move and run about, explore the world. So with his blessing I left and came here, to Anvard."

"Do you miss him?" Ellen asked, "Your father?"

"Of course I do," Mahlirra said, "And I have visited him many times, but I want to see more of the world than just Anvard. I want to go north. I want to see Narnia."

"So why don't you?"

"It would be harder to visit my father if I left," Mahlirra said, "And I am comfortable here." She sighed then shook her head, "But why am I yammering on? Turil sent me to check that you were up so that King Lune can meet you. We were to meet with him at one hour after midday in the rose courtyard. And gosh it must be gone one hour past now!"

"What?" said Ellen, "But I can't meet a King like this; in my grubby tunic!"

"That doesn't matter," Mahlirra said, "Come on, we must go!" She took the tray from Ellen's lap and placed it to one side,"the King of Archenland wishes to speak with you!" She took her hand and together they hurried out of the bedroom.


	3. The Incident at Cauldron Pool

Russell the rabbit lived in a quiet neighbourhood which was just what he liked. He had a few friends; Sorrel and Enid were the centaur sisters who visited him every Wednesday with any news, and Marcus the Satyr would come around to the front of his burrow every evening to talk. Marcus was his oldest friend and worried about him. He thought that Russell needed to meet new people but Russell said he was happy living a quiet life. It was one of the few things he was proudest of that his burrow was further west than any other dwelling, bar the cave of Mr Tumnus. But Tumnus was at Cair Paravel more often than not, far on the eastern side of Narnia, so Russell had decided that he didn't count.

No – he lived further west than any other Narnian, and was probably the only creature to venture near the border with the Western Wild. For every Tuesday, early in the morning, Russell would set off from his burrow and head west, to Cauldron Pool. He would arrive in the afternoon and spend the rest of the day bathing in the shallows, watching the water swirl and bubble around the base of the waterfall whilst he practised his breaststroke.

It was the highlight of his week and, as he had told Marcus on countless occasions, one day he intended to travel east, and swim in the sea off the eastern coast, so he needed to practice his swimming. It had been many years though, and he hadn't managed to get round to actually going. He liked his home and he liked the west of Narnia; it was quieter and less populated than the busy eastern side which was nearer to Cair Paravel. Yet he still thought about it, and planned to go at some point.

And so it was on a sunny Tuesday, early in the morning, that Russell could be found making his way to Cauldron Pool. He hopped through the forest undergrowth with a small sack on his back filled with carrots and a cabbage; after swimming he always got very hungry and he was a typical rabbit in his love of raw vegetables, especially his home-grown cabbages.

He was hopping along happily in this manner when he heard a series of cracking twigs to his far left, as if someone was walking parallel to him, fifty metres or so into the forest. He paused and his ear twitched as he stared into the greenery. But he couldn't see anything and the cracking appeared to have stopped. He carried on his journey and was almost at Cauldron Pool when he heard the cracking again. This time it came to his right and when he stopped it carried on, though it seemed to be getting further and further away. Soon he couldn't hear it anymore. His tail twitched and he gnawed on the fabric of the sack for a moment, quite disturbed by the mysterious cracking.

He was, as had been said, probably the only creature in Narnia who came this far west. But, reasoning that another like himself had headed west to find some quiet, he soon got over his qualms.

And anyway, he was almost at Cauldron Pool and had been looking forwards to his weekly swim all week. He had told Marcus only yesterday evening that if he could manage to swim underwater today then on Saturday he might set off for the eastern coast. Marcus, used to Russell's talk of going east, had laughed, telling him that he had said something similar last week and hadn't gone: he was a Westerner at heart. Russell was used to Marcus's teasing and quite intended to prove him wrong but just not yet. Russell scratched his ear and then carried on his way and arrived at Cauldron Pool only slightly later than normal.

Russell had his swim and made sure that he washed behind his ears before getting out and rolling over in the long grass to dry himself off. He had a late lunch and then laid down on the bank for a rest. He must've been tired from staying up late with Marcus the night before for all too soon he fell asleep in the warmth of the sun.

It was very late when he finally woke up again and it was dark. He wasn't too worried by this; he had fallen asleep after his swim before and although he had never slept for this long, it wasn't unusual. Luckily there was a full moon so he would be able to see his way back.

He was setting off into the woods when there came a horrible howling sound from behind him. He started and turned round in terror. He couldn't see anything but the trees which made horrible shadows in the moonlight. He was shaking and then there came a second howling, joining in with the first and he didn't stop to think. Dropping his sack, Russell pelted away, squeaking slightly in terror. He ran in a zigzag fashion in case whatever it was was trying to chase him, and didn't stop until he was safe in his snug little burrow.

There he spent the rest of the night, shaking and unable to get to sleep. It was Sorrell, the centaur, who found him the next morning. She had come up early to tell him about the new ships that were being built at Cair Paravel, and was shocked to see the state he was in.

"Russell," she said, her wise and kindly head appearing at the entrance to his burrow, "Whatever is the matter? Won't you come out?"

It took her some time to coax him out and by that time her sister Enid had arrived. Russell told them what had happened and they were both shocked. Enid galloped off at once to Cair Paravel to inform the High King and his siblings, whilst Sorrell took the shaking rabbit and trotted him over to the Marcus's home which was a snug little cave tucked beneath a rocky outcrop. Once she had explained what had happened to Marcus, and saw that Russell was well looked after, she too cantered off to Cair Paravel.

"But Russell," Marcus said, once she had gone, "What on earth was it?"

"I... I don't know," Russell said, "A wolf perhaps or... or something worse." He shivered, "I just wish I hadn't dropped that sack; it had my finest cabbage in it, which I'd been saving for when I went to the sea." Marcus made no comment about the intended trip to the sea and instead went to his store cupboard and brought out a pair of carrots for Russell to nibble on.

He stayed the rest of the week at Marcus's and on Saturday Sorrell and Enid returned. They told them that High King Peter himself had invited Russell to stay at Cair Paravel whilst the matter was decided on and so, after stopping off at his burrow to get some of his belongings, Sorrell took Russell to Cair Paravel. Enid stayed behind at Marcus's before following after her sister.

"What does it mean?" Marcus asked Enid as she was about to leave, "Surely they were just a pair of wolves who had come too far west?"

"Possibly," Enid said, "But the High King will not take this matter lightly."

"But you know Russell," Marcus continued, "He wouldn't know a wolf from a terrier! And he's so scared of everything."

"Perhaps," Enid said, "But you shouldn't venture too far west Marcus – not until the Kings and Queens have come to a decision on the matter."

"Of course," Marcus said and after saying goodbye, Enid trotted off, heading east for Cair Paravel.

Despite what he had said, Marcus fully intended to head west that very day. He had decided the first night Russell had stayed over his that he would go back to Cauldron Pool and see if he could find any clues as to what it might have been. Marcus strongly suspected that someone had played a trick on poor Russell in order to get his prize cabbage. Foremost on his list of suspects was Belinda the Squirrel but Marcus decided that rather than confront her right out, he would find some sort of evidence first.

And so, on the Saturday that Russell had finally headed east, Marcus the Satyr set off, going further west than he had ever gone before.


	4. A King Amidst the Roses

Mahlirra led Ellen through the castle, down winding staircases and along sweeping corridors, passing castle people as they did. There were servants and nobles, few of them human in their form; there were two satyrs dressed in silk waistcoats, obviously important lords, and a gaggle of giggling Naiads, heading to the castle well.

But finally, Mahlirra pushed open a set of double doors and they were outside in a small courtyard, enclosed on three sides by castle towers, and the fourth by a low wall which looked out to the east as far as the eye could see. In the far distance, Ellen could see the gleam of the eastern ocean but her senses were soon occupied by the presence of on just thing: roses.

The courtyard was filled with rose bushes. There were red ones in the masses but also white ones and pink ones as well as orange, lilac and yellow and colours Ellen couldn't even think of a name for. The smell was sensational. Have you ever smelt a rose and it smell so strong that the pure smell of it makes you smile? Well it was like that, but you didn't even have to be particularly close to one flower to smell it. Ellen was entranced. There was a gentle buzzing coming from a nearby rose bush. The flowers were a beautiful silver colour and when Ellen went to have a closer look, a cuddly looking bumble bee came flying out. She stepped back hurriedly – when she was younger she had been badly stung by a wasp – but the bee didn't seem to have noticed her, and instead flew off to another rose bush.

"Those ones are called Moonlight Bloomers; because of their colour." Ellen jumped a little at the sound of this new voice. She turned around and there stood a plump man with a round face and jolly cheeks. Although he was smiling at her, Ellen could sense a certain sadness about him. Perhaps it was the fact that he was wearing black, the colour of mourning.

"They were my wife's favourite," he continued, "A little bit of the night sky for the daytime she would tell me." He came over to her, "So you are our unexpected guest." At this Ellen suddenly realised who this man was; it was King Lune of Archenland. She quickly gave a hasty curtsey.

"Your majesty," she said, "I must thank you for your hospitality. You see I had nowhere else to go and I was told that the court of King Lune always welcomed guests and - "

"And so we do," King Lune said to her, "You must forgive me for not coming to see you yesterday but I heard you were in a distressed state and I have had enough sadness to last me a while yet."

"I am sorry your majesty," Ellen said, "I did not know. Your wife, she must have been a wonderful Queen." At this King Lune's eyes saddened, and the twinkle that had been in them the moment before was gone.

"Ay," he said, "She was and I take heart from the fact that at least she did not live to see her son taken from her in such a terrible way."

"Oh my," Ellen said, "I am sorry –I really did not realise, I - "

"Oh don't worry yourself my dear," the King said, "It is in the past and at least I still have my Prince Corin," King Lune looked at her confused face, "His twin brother," he added, to clarify for her.

"Oh," Ellen said, "Oh yes, of course."

"Your majesty," came a voice from behind a rose bush. A second later and a faun, a man, a fox and two ladies appeared from around the bush.

"Your majesty," the faun said. Ellen recognised him as the faun who had greeted her the night before, "Your majesty, Lady Helaina was wondering which of the roses she might cut to take for her ill mother."

"Thank you Turil," the King said to the faun , "Lady Helaina," he said, turning to greet the young woman in a flowing yellow dress, "You may cut any of the roses you wish and take as many as you like. Help yourself my dear."

"Thank you, your majesty," Lady Helaina said, "Lord Drucan," she turned to the young man beside her, "Would you be so kind as to help me pick some out."

"Why of course," the man said, "Though I doubt any would be as fair as you my Lady." Lady Helaina gave a laugh and allowed the Lord Drucan to lead her away through the rose bushes. King Lune waited for them to disappear from view before he let out a chortle.

"Poor Lord Drucan," he said, before turning to the remaining lady, a young woman wearing riding gear and a scowl, "Your cousin is quite the charmer wouldn't you agree Lady Pamela?"

"I'm glad someone is amused," Lady Pamela said, "I just wish she would grow up and focus on something else, like riding. I only came along to choose some flowers for my Aunt but she turns it into such a drag. But if your majesty will excuse me, I have places to be." She gave Ellen a curious look before bowing and leaving the courtyard.

"You humans are odd," the fox remarked, "Always moving about, places to go and what silly things you worry about."

"I couldn't agree more," Turil the faun said, "Why can't you just learn to enjoy life?"

"Well," Ellen said, "Perhaps that's how we enjoy life, by moving about and worrying about silly things?" The faun and the fox turned to look at her.

"Ah but where are my manners," King Lune said, "Dawson, Turil, this is Lady Ellen; the guest who arrived last night in the storm."

"Well," Ellen said, "I'm not sure about the Lady part but yes – that's me."

"Welcome to Anvard," the fox said, "But you must tell us of where you have come from. Turil told me that you were raving about slaves last night when you arrived."

"Well," Ellen said and saw that the three of them were all watching her intently, "Well I was a slave. In Tashbaan. But I escaped and came north. I'm heading for Narnia; apparently I might find my twin brother there."

"Well," said King Lune, "That could be quite a tale if you had told it all though I suppose you have your reasons for discretion. You are welcome to stay as long as you wish and - "

"Well actually I was hoping to set off for the Mountain Pass today."

"So soon?"

"Yes," Ellen said, "I am sorry but I feel I cannot put it off. It was Aslan who told me to head to Narnia and well, I really want to find my brother."

"You saw Aslan?"

"The Great Lion himself?"

"Yes."

"Where was this?"

"In Tashbaan actually, just before I escaped."

"So he told you that you would find your brother in Narnia?" King Lune asked, "Why would he be there?"

"I don't know," Ellen said, "And he didn't say explicitly that my brother was in Narnia, just that I would find what I was looking for in Narnia – and I've been looking for my brother ever since he ran away so I guess he made it to Narnia and I'll find him there."

"Did he run away from the slavers?" Asked the fox.

"Yes," Ellen said, "He managed to escape."

"Yet he didn't think to take you with him?" Turil asked, "He doesn't seem the best of brothers."

"Well he couldn't," Ellen said, her face going red, "It was more complicated than that."

"Of course it was," the King said, trying to diffuse the situation, "I am sure you will find what you are looking for in Narnia, Lady Ellen, but know that you are always welcome here. My court is a welcoming one and soon perhaps it shall find some of the joy that it used to know."

"Thank you, your majesty," Ellen said, "Could someone show me the way to the stables? I'll need my horse, Silver, for the journey."

"Of course," King Lune said, "Mahlirra," he called, and the dryad appeared from behind a rose bush, "Mahlirra my dear," he said to her, "Ensure that the Lady Ellen has everything she needs for her journey over the Mountain Pass. In fact, why don't you show her the way to the start of it?"

"Of course, your majesty," Mahlirra said and then hesitated, "I wonder your majesty, if you would allow me to go with her? All the way to Narnia? I can look after her and help her."

"Mahlirra," King Lune said gently, "You are free to do as you please. Surely you know that? If you are ready to leave us then go; go with Lady Ellen – go and explore Narnia, in all its splendour."

"Thank you, your majesty," Mahlirra said, "I'll never forget the kindness you have shown me."

"And I'll never forget the dryad who wanted to explore, to leave the forests behind," said Turil. The fox chuckled at this but quickly stifled this at the look King Lune gave him.

"Are you sure?" Ellen asked Mahlirra. The dryad nodded.

"I've never been more certain, Ellen," she said, "When you arrived in the storm last night, it was the most exciting thing that has happened to me since I came here - no offence your majesty."

"None taken," King Lune said jovially.

"And I realised," she continued, "That I wanted excitement - I wanted to explore. So is that alright? Can I come with you?" Ellen smiled.

"Of course," she said, "I'm sure I'll need all the help I can get and you've been so kind to me so far!"

"Well," King Lune said smiling, "I guess that means that's settled then? Mahlirra will travel with Lady Ellen. Are you sure you want to leave today?"

"Yes your majesty," Ellen said, "And thank you again, for taking me in during that storm." She turned to Mahlirra, "Shall we?"

"Yes."

So they curtseyed to the King and said their farewells to Turil and the fox, but just before she left the Rose Courtyard, Ellen turned back for one last look. The King was standing with Turil on one side and the fox on the other. He was bent over sniffing the Moonlight Bloomer. On the other side of the courtyard the voices of Lady Helaina and Lord Drucan could be heard, chattering pleasantly. King Lune looked up to see Ellen looking. He smiled and gave her a nod. Though she was at a distance, it seemed that the twinkle in his eye was back, but Mahlirra called to her from the door and so she left the courtyard of Roses.

An hour or so later, they were cantering out of the gates of Anvard. They headed north with the wind rushing in their faces and a sense of adventure thriving in their hearts. Mount Pire was ahead of them and beyond that lay the land of Narnia.


	5. From Slavery

_The wagon trundled along the cobbled road. The slaves inside wore cold metal chains and tunics that stank of sweat and dirt. As they neared the market square the sounds of freedmen and women could be heard, bustling about their afternoon routine. The cries of the market sellers got louder as the slave wagon finally rumbled to a halt._

_Ellen took the hand of her friend Heria who was shaking as the slavers unbolted the back of the wagon. The light was blinding; it had been pitch black in the windowless wagon and they hadn't been let out for a day and a half. Ellen blinked in an effort to adjust her eyes to the sun._

" _Get out!" The fat slaver shouted and he pulled on the chains. One by one the slaves stumbled out of the wagon, clumsy because they did not have full control of their arms and legs, bound as they were with heavy chains: chains linking wrist to wrist, ankle to ankle, and right wrist to the left ankle of the person in front of them._

_In this way they shuffled, half blinded by the glaring sun, through the throng of people surrounding the market platform, the wooden stage set up in the centre of the market square. Ellen stumbled up the steps after Heria and they were lined up by the slavers. The bald slave merchant made his way up the steps after them and then turned, his back to his goods, to address the crowd._

" _Ladies and gentlemen," he cried, "We have a wonderful selection of human workers for you today. They've come all the way from the Southern Wastelands, hence why their skin is so dark. We have men, women, young and healthy; a real selection. Now, who wants to buy?"_

_And with that, the bidding began._

_Ellen and Heria were standing side by side, Heria gripping Ellen's hands, having watched five of the other slaves get sold off, when it happened. An oily looking man in the crowd with an ugly face called to the slaver:_

" _How much for the ugly one? Surely you should be trying to give her away for free!" There was a chorus of crude laughing behind him._

" _For free?" The merchant cried out in outrage, "Do you know how much they are worth! All the way from the south they have travelled and they're still here." He paused, " But which one are you talking about?"_

" _Her." The oily man shouted, pointing directly at Ellen. Ellen felt her face go red, how dare he! She felt so embarrassed. The merchant turned to look at her, up and down. Then he shrugged._

" _I'll grant you that – she is ugly, but I'm not selling for looks. They're hard workers, the lot of them. You'd be a fool to buy for looks. The prettier the slave, the worse they work: too full of pride and self importance." He looked around the crowd, "Any takers?" Ellen felt her heart pounding in her mouth. The oily man cocked his head to one side then sniffed._

" _Nah," he said, "Too ugly to sell. You'll have to give her away in the end and you know it."_

" _If you're not buying then get out." The merchant shouted, "Go on." Some of the slavers started making their way towards the oily man, hands on their swords. He raised his hands in the air._

" _I'm going ok – no need to get all aggressive about it." With that he left, a few others following in his wake._

" _Right," the merchant turned back to the crowd, "Who else wants to buy?"_

_It was nearly dark when the bald slaver decided enough was enough. The crowd had been thinning ever since the oily man had left, and now there were only a few stragglers left. Ellen and Heria were, like most of the slaves, almost asleep on their feet. They had been standing in the heat and sun with no food or water for almost five hours. They were being led down the steps to the wagon when a richly dressed rider rode into the square._

" _Wait," he called to the merchant, "I wish to buy a slave."_

" _Well too late," the merchant replied, "We're done here."_

" _I have gold," the man said, and produced a plump leather pouch that jangled, "And lots of it."_

_The slavers eyes lit up at this, "How many do you want?"_

" _Just one," the rich man replied, "I knew her father. Her name is Heria. Heria Heraldi._

" _That's me," Heria called in excitement, "You knew my father, Horro Heraldi?"_

" _Yes," the man replied, "He saved my life."_

" _All right, all right," the merchant said, "Well this one actually happens to be worth quite a lot."_

" _Oh really," the man said, "How surprising."_

_And so they bargained, for what felt like ages, finally arriving at a price neither particularly liked. The man handed over the gold and Heria was released from her chains._

" _Heria?" Ellen said as her friend was led over to the rich man. Heria turned and looked at Ellen before turning to the man who had bought her._

" _Kind sir," she said, "My friend - "_

" _I'm sorry Heria," the man said, "I came here only to buy you. You must come with me now, to safety." Ellen watched as Heria hesitated and turned to look back at her._

" _I'm sorry Ellen," she said. A tear ran down Ellen's face but she brushed it away, her chains clanking as she did._

" _Heria go," she said, "Go and be free."_

" _Thank you." And without a moment more of hesitation Heria got onto the horse, behind the man, and he turned the horse, riding back the way he had come. Ellen watched as they rode away but Heria didn't turn to look back. She watched as they disappeared behind a bend in the road and were gone from sight, but a slaver yanked at her chains forcing her to turn and follow the other slaves down the steps and into the dark stink of the wagon..._

Ellen woke up. She was lying on something soft. She opened her eyes and could see dappled green. Something tickled her face and thinking of spiders crawling into her mouth, she sat up quickly. She was lying on soft ferns in the middle of a wood. Sunlight was slipping through the leafy canopy and it appeared to be morning. Mahlirra was nowhere to be seen. She stood up slowly and looked about. Their horses stood nearby; Silver was drinking from the stream they had caught fish in yesterday. Ellen went over to it and splashed water on her face. It was icy and quickly woke her up, clearing her head.

They were in Narnia, not Calormen, having crossed the Mountain Pass from Archenland the day before yesterday. She was free and off to find her brother. Yes, Heria was gone, had left her, but she had made a new friend - the half-dryad Mahlirra. Thinking of Mahlirra, Ellen wondered where she had got to; they were intending to reach Cair Paravel by that afternoon. It had been a friendly young badger who had suggested it to them when they had first crossed over from Archenland. The badger had been the first creature they had met, and once Mahlirra had explained what they were doing, the badger had suggested Cair Paravel as the first place to look. Anyone and everyone who came to Narnia always ended up there. The Kings and Queens loved to meet new people and welcomed newcomers as much, if not more so, than the court of King Lune. Ellen had figured that if her brother had come to Narnia, as Aslan had hinted, then it seemed she would find news of him, if not him himself, at Cair Paravel. And so, she and Mahlirra were heading to Cair Paravel.

"So you're finally up then?" Ellen turned at this to see Mahlirra appear from behind a tree.

"Where've you been?" Ellen asked.

"I was talking with the trees," she answered, "It seems that they have heard of my father – he seems to be quite a name round here, though they wouldn't tell me why."

Ellen shrugged, "Do many dryads have children with humans?"

"I suppose not..." Mahlirra said thoughtfully.

"Perhaps that's why?"

"Yes," Mahlirra said and hesitated, "Ellen," She paused, "Can I tell you something?"

"Of course."

"It's something I've never told anyone – not even King Lune or Turil."

Ellen was intrigued, "Whatever is it? Don't tell me you have a deep dark secret!" She laughed, "If you're secretly that White Witch person and have been keeping it from me then I will not be impressed!"

Mahlirra gave her a reproachful look, "You shouldn't joke about such things; and it's nothing about me. Well – I suppose it is actually."

"Come on," Ellen said, "You can trust me. Just a bad sense of humour – that's all that's wrong with me!" Mahlirra gave a reluctant smile.

"Ok," she said, then took a deep breath, "Well I've always wanted to find out who my mother is." She bit her lip and looked at Ellen. Ellen stared at her.

"You don't know who your mother is?!"

"Well do you?" Mahlirra retorted defensively.

"No," Ellen said, "But that's only because I never knew my father so I couldn't just ask him like you could. Why haven't you just asked him?"

"I did," Mahlirra said, "Once. But he got all quiet and retreated back to his willow. He didn't return to human form for a week! Of course I've never asked him again; it's obviously something that he wouldn't want to talk about."

"Fair enough," Ellen said as she stood up, "Well how else do you intend to find out who she is?"

"I..." Mahlirra sighed, "I don't know." Ellen placed her hand on Mahlirra's shoulder.

"We will find her," she told her, "I promise."

Mahlirra smiled, "Thank you." She went over to her horse and tightened the girth. Ellen picked up her sword and slid it back into her belt before going over to Silver.

"We should reach Cair Paravel today," she said to Mahlirra, "Goodness – I've just realised – we'll be meeting the Kings and Queens of Narnia in our riding gear!"

Mahlirra laughed, "Ellen you shouldn't worry about that; you've already met one monarch in that tunic; four more won't make a difference!"

Ellen stuck out her tongue. "Oh that's mature," Mahlirra said, "But you shouldn't worry about that. It's not like Calormen – we don't care about the way you dress or how you look; all that matters is who you are and what choices you make."

"Sounds like my sort of country," Ellen said as she scrambled onto Silver's back, "I hope they don't judge me on my riding skills either. Or my horse for that matter!" Silver snorted.

Mahlirra laughed and gracefully leapt up onto her horse. She was an elegant rider – actually she was just very elegant in general. Something Ellen lacked, to say the least.

They trotted away from the river, and within a few minutes they were out of the trees. Before them was an empty plain with a river running east to the ocean. In the distance Ellen could see the sea and as she followed the coastline north, far in the distance she could see Cair Paravel, glistening on the eastern ocean like the badger told them it would. She smiled and turned to Mahlirra.

"The badger said we could reach it within the day," Ellen said, "What do you think?"

"I could," Mahlirra said, "But with you slowing me down... well..."

"Ok," Ellen said, "How about first to that river?"

"You're on."

And with that they kicked their horses into a trot, then a canter, and were soon galloping flat out away from the forest and the mountains in the south, and towards the glistening castle, the capital of Narnia. Cair Paravel.


	6. On the Eastern Ocean

It had been seven years since the Battle of Beruna; since the White Witch had been defeated and Narnia had been freed from the never ending winter. The Pevensie siblings ruled from Cair Paravel and were surrounded by their friends; Mr and Mrs Beaver, Mr Tumnus and many more.

The sun was beginning to get low in the sky and Edmund Pevensie was standing on the beach, looking out over the eastern ocean. The new ships that were being built would soon be ready and then he and Lucy would take a small fleet out to Galma and Terebinthia, and then on to the Lone Islands to the south. He remembered their first sea voyage to the islands five years ago. The Narnians there had realised that the White Witch's power had ended because of the ending of winter, and then when the four of them had arrived, fulfilling the prophesy, there had been much celebrating. Edmund was almost excited as Lucy was about the voyage planned for next spring. It was going to be their first journey without Peter and Susan as the High King had finally deemed Edmund old enough not to mess it up - he was turning eighteen that summer.

Edmund closed his eyes as he felt the warmth of the sun on his face and smiled at the feeling of the sea breeze. He turned at the sound of thudding hooves coming towards him from the castle. It was a young female centaur, her dark brown hair streaming out behind her in the wind, and her bow held by her side as she galloped towards him, the brown of her horse sides shining in the sun. She came up to him and then bowed her head respectfully.

"Your majesty," She said, "I am Sorrell from the west of Narnia. My sister and I fought alongside you in the Battle of Beruna."

"I remember," said Edmund, smiling, "What brings you to Cair Paravel?"

"My sister and I bring grave news. The High King and your sisters have gathered in the Throne room with my sister Enid. They are awaiting you."

"Why?" Edmund asked worried, "What's happened?"

"It is a friend of ours," Sorrell said as they turned to walk back up to the castle, "Russell the rabbit. He has a very terrifying story to tell your majesty."

"And is it a story that is best heard directly from him?"

"Yes you majesty."

"Well," he said, "I'd better get a move on; they'll be waiting." So he picked up his pace and with Sorrell trotting beside him, they made their way up to the main courtyard of Cair Paravel. Edmund crossed the courtyard and entered the castle, making his way to the Throne room. Sorrell followed him. He pushed open the set of oak double doors and entered the hall.

It was packed full of courtiers and advisors of all species who all respectfully made way when he came in. At one end were the four ornate thrones that they had been crowned upon, but only one was occupied: Queen Susan sat in hers talking quietly and urgently to Mr and Mrs Beaver. In the centre of the room stood the High King in conversation with a centaur who, with her long brown hair and dark green eyes, could only be Sorrell's sister Enid. Edmund looked around a moment for Lucy, before spying her sitting on the bottom step leading up to the thrones, talking gently to a large brown rabbit.

"Edmund," Susan said as soon as she saw he had come in, "Come, brother, let us begin."

"What has happened?"

"I have asked Russell the rabbit to tell us the tale about something that happened to him on the border with the Western Wild." Peter said, breaking off his conversation with Enid, "Let us be seated brother; you must hear this."

They all did as he said, Lucy planting a soft kiss on the top of the rabbit's head before hurrying up to sit on her throne. Edmund was pretty certain that Russell had already told her what had happened – Lucy was kind and even the quietest of people found her easy to talk to because she was so good at listening. The reason why she was such a great listener was simple: she cared.

The other courtiers in the room took their seats on benches that lined the sides of the hall and the centaurs and other four footed creatures stood to the side, leaving the brown rabbit standing on his own in the centre of the hall. He was standing on his hind legs like any intelligent mammal does when in a situation as he was in. Russell cleared his throat and wrung his paws a little before glancing to Queen Lucy. She gave him a smile and nodded her head and he took heart from this and began.

"You majesties," Russell said, and he told of the incident at Cauldron pool. When he had finished an uneasy silence filled the hall before he spoke up again: "But also... I must ask you," He hesitated a moment and swallowed, "What is to be done about it?"

"That is what we are here to decide," King Peter said, "Did you, at any point, see what these creatures looked like?"

"N-no," Russell said stuttering a little, "I only heard them."

"How many were there?" Edmund asked, kindly, "Were there more than one?"

"Yes," Russell said decidedly, "I heard two – one on one side and one on the other. There were two of them, at least."

"How dreadful," Susan exclaimed, "You poor creature."

"Do you think they were wolves?" Lucy asked, pointedly.

"Yes," Russell said, "And no – you see they sounded like wolves but there was something else about their howling... I can't quite put my paw on it..."

"Werewolves?"

The word was out before Edmund could stop himself from saying it. Everyone in the room turned to each other and a low nervous murmuring could be heard.

"In Narnia? Now?" Susan turned to look at him, "Edmund what a thing to suggest; how terrible."

"Indeed," Peter said and then stood up, to address the crowd of worried Narnians, "What is important is that we do not panic. This possibility will be dealt with, yet we still cannot be certain of what it is." He turned to look at his siblings, "My brother and sisters and I will need to talk this through. We will return tomorrow at midday to tell you all what is to be done."

The four of them stood up from their thrones and left the Throne room. A small huddle of their closest advisors followed them, along with Russell the rabbit and the centaur sisters.

"Well," said Edmund, as they entered the antechamber, "Is it possible that they were werewolves because if that is the case then - "

"Edmund," Susan interjected, "They can't be werewolves – they just can't. We've ruled here for so long; how could we miss something like this?"

"Your majesties," said Mr Tumnus, "What might have happened is they came across the border from the Western Wild."

"But there aren't any werewolves in the Western Wild," said Lucy, "At least not this close to our border."

"Russell," Susan said, turning to the rabbit, "What do you think they were? Could they have just been ordinary wolves?"

"I suppose so, your majesty," Russell said uncertainly.

"Susan," Edmund said, "Either way, we cannot let this lie. A wolf may not be as terrible as a werewolf but it still needs to be dealt with. I've said it before and I'll say it again; the Western March is just as much a part of Narnia as Cair Paravel is. The reason why such a thing could happen is because we as rulers always forget about it. It is always neglected by us."

"It's all very well to say that now," Peter said, a little annoyed because he knew Edmund to be right, "But we need to decide what to do."

"There is nothing _to_ do," Susan exclaimed, "At least not now; these wolves will have slunk back over to the Western Wild by now and there is nothing that can be done about it. With any luck they won't return."

"And what if they do?" Edmund asked, coldly, "Or what if they are werewolves and we just leave them to terrorise the west of Narnia? How then are we any better than the White Witch?"

"Edmund," Lucy said quietly, "What else do we do?"

"We could send a small force to hunt these creatures out - and kill them."

"No." Peter said decidedly, "We will not risk it. We can't. Not at the moment; not with the giants causing trouble to the north, we can't spare our fighters. If the giants move south or the Calormen move north, we need fighters to defend Narnia. We can't risk it just for the possibility of a couple of wolves right on the edge of Narnia."

"Your majesties," came a small voice from waist height. It was Russell. "Your majesties, am I to understand that nothing is to be done?"

"You can stay here at Cair Paravel for as long as you want," said Lucy, "It can be your home as much as ours."

"This is ridiculous Peter," Edmund said, "And you know it." He looked around at the others in the room. No one said anything. Lucy averted her gaze. Edmund shook his head and left the room, the door slamming shut behind him.

It was Russell who ended the awkward silence that followed: "Can my friend Marcus come and stay here to?" he asked, "It's just that I do worry, not saying that there are any werewolves of course, but... but just in case."

"Of course," Lucy said gently, "We can send for him at once if you want?"

"Thank you very much your majesty," Russell said, "That would put my mind to rest – I just worry about him; he is my dearest friend."

Slowly everyone dispersed, leaving the ante-chamber, Russell hopping along beside Lucy. But Queen Susan stayed behind, staring out of the window frowning.

"Susan," Peter said, coming over to her, "Are you alright?"

"There can't be werewolves," She said, defiantly, "I won't believe it. Ed's wrong. There can't be werewolves in Narnia: not now, not after everything." She turned to look up at her brother, her eyes wide and desperate. Peter took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"Of course there aren't."

Far, far to the west of Cair Paravel, in a deep dark dell beyond Cauldron Pool, a dark shape rose from its slumber. It came out of its cave and stood up tall before howling, a dark terrible sound. A few seconds passed whilst it appeared to be listening. Another moment and then came the answering howl.

This was followed by another and another and another till the whole forest seemed to be filled with the sound: like echoes from a deep well, only coming from all directions, breaking the stillness of the trees, turning the quiet into a chaos of hair-raising howls...


	7. The Satyr's Mistake

Marcus trotted through the forest, using his strong goat legs to leap over a tree that had fallen across the path. The path to Cauldron Pool was hardly worthy of the name; the only person who ever used it on a regular basis was Russell, and so it was overgrown and in parts seemed to disappear. Marcus had only used it once before, when Russell insisted he come with him to go swimming. The problem was it was on this day that Marcus discovered that Satyrs couldn't swim. He chuckled at the memory of this; after his terrible attempt at treading water, he had quickly got out of the pool and he and Russell had lain on the bank, both soaking wet and in fits of laughter.

He was abruptly snapped out of his musings by the sound of cracking twigs coming from his right. He froze. Up until that point he hadn't even considered the possibility that Russell hadn't overreacted, that there actually was something out here. He was about three quarters of the way to Cauldron Pool and the sun was getting very low in the sky. Marcus stared out into the forest. He couldn't see anything and now the cracking sound had stopped. He hesitated, unsure what to do. What if there was something out there? Surely it would be better to go back?

He shook his head; he was imagining things – that was all. It could be unnerving being on your own in such a quiet part of Narnia, and so near to the border with the Western Wild. It was getting late though and it was easy to get lost in the dark, especially in an area you didn't know too well. Marcus had almost decided to head back when he heard a howling sound coming from back the way he had come. He turned around and looked back down the path. The world was slowly turning grey as the sun sank down behind the western horizon and it was hard to see.

Marcus thought he saw something dark move from one side of the path to the other but he couldn't be certain. He realised that he was shaking and breathing heavily from fear. How could he be so stupid to come out here so late in the day, and on his own, especially after what Russell had told him.

Then came a second howling sound, this time from up the path ahead of him. He spun round and this time there was no uncertainty in his mind. A dark creature the size of a large man was prowling down the path towards him. It paused and raised its head. Out from its mouth came the terrible howling sound yet Marcus still could not work out what it looked like in the dusk. Then it started running, almost on all fours, straight towards him.

Without thinking, Marcus let out a strangled cry and turned and fled, running off the path and deeper into the forest, away from the two creatures that were now, without doubt, hunting him.

He leapt over a small brook and kept running. He could hear the panting of the creatures behind him and occasionally one of them would let out another terrible howl as they chased him, their feet pounding on the ground. Marcus was galumphing through the forest, racing past trees and bushes, out of his mind with fear, when suddenly the ground disappeared beneath him.

With a yell, he fell over the edge of the small cliff and into the dell at the bottom. He heard a cracking noise as he fell and cried out in agony as he realised that one of his legs was broken. He struggled to his feet but then fell over in pain. He couldn't walk, let alone run, and realised with a sense of calm horror that the creatures chasing him were going to catch him, and that there was nothing he could do to stop them.

Even as this cold realisation dawned on him, one of the creatures appeared at the top of the cliff, outlined against the moon that had appeared in the darkening sky. It let out a terrible howl and then started leaping down into the dell. Marcus tried to scramble away from it but turned at the sound of a snarl coming from behind him, further in the dell. It was the other creature; it had come around the other way to cut him off from the opposite side of the dell.

"Aslan protect me," he murmured as a silent prayer as the two creatures both got nearer and nearer.

"That cat can't save you now goat." Marcus looked up; the voice was inhuman, soft and menacing. It had come from the creature nearest to him.

"What are you?" He asked, dreading the reply. The creature stepped out of the shadows and Marcus could see the full horror of it.

His scream of pure terror lasted less than a second.


	8. Upon the Four Thrones

It was late afternoon when Ellen and Mahlirra finally trotted across the golden brick bridge to enter the palace of Cair Paravel. Their journey from the south of Narnia had been short and uneventful bar one moment when Silver almost spooked at the sound of the sea crashing against the cliffs. Ellen had almost fallen off much to Mahlirra's amusement.

"Good afternoon," came a voice from the gatehouse. The gates were open but there was always someone in the gatehouse. Today it was Sir Beverell, a veteran from the White Witch's castle. She had turned him to stone early on in her reign and when Aslan had breathed him back to life, he had happily joined the Pevensies in their fight against her.

"Good afternoon," Ellen called back, shielding her eyes against the sun so that she could see who it was. Sir Beverell appeared in the opening, leaning on his sword. He had blonde curly hair that was slightly greying with age. There were plenty of wrinkles around his eyes from where he smiled so much - something he was doing right at that moment.

"Welcome to Cair Paravel," he called down, "Where have two young ladies such as yourselves travelled from? Archenland?"

"Yes," Mahlirra answered, "From the court of King Lune. Although my friend comes all the way from Calormen; she was a slave there, and has reason to believe that her lost brother might be here, in Narnia."

"Well I say," Sir Beverell said, "What a tale that'll be. The names Beverell, a knight if you would believe it – at my age! But you must come in. I'll come down - hang on," He turned and called to a young woman to relieve him. Mahlirra and Ellen made their way through the gate and inside Cair Paravel.

Through the gateway lay a large and ornate courtyard. Leading off it were many doors and arches but on the side directly opposite them were a set of huge oaken doors which were open, leading into the palace. On the side to their left were stables whilst on the opposite side were arches which appeared to lead through into gardens or up winding stone steps to other parts of the palace. There were lots of people milling about and stable hands leading horses to and from the stables. Right in the centre was a huge stone fountain with Naiads sitting chatting on the side. A statue of a huge stone lion sat right in the centre, facing the gate. There was little doubt in Ellen's mind who the lion represented.

"Hello," said Sir Beverell as he came round the corner from the gatehouse, "Do your horses need tending to?" He didn't wait for their answer, instead calling over a young lad with ginger hair, "Tom – take these ladies horses and stable them would you."

"Yes sir," the boy said and waited whilst Mahlirra and Ellen dismounted. He then led Silver and Mahlirra's horse away, towards the stables.

"Thank you," Mahlirra said.

"Will we be able to see the Kings and Queens today?"Ellen asked.

"Well," Sir Beverell said, "There having some sort of meeting about something that went on in the Western Marches. Some rabbit told a tall story yesterday about wolves but you know what rabbits can be like – scared of anything but carrots! Anyway, I think the High King is just telling the court what is to be done but I think they'll be finishing soon. You can wait out here or go and change although - " He broke off as a large number of people came strolling out of the main doors.

"We'd be happy to wait out here," Ellen prompted. Sir Beverell turned back to them, smiling.

"I think that their meeting is over," he said, gesturing to the people leaving the palace, "Or so it would seem - I'll see if I can introduce you."

"Thank you," Ellen said, "That'll be great won't it Mahlirra?" She turned to the dryad, only to see that she had completely disappeared. "Mahlirra?" She turned back to Sir Beverell, "Did you see where she went?"

"Went off that way I think," He said, pointing towards the palace gardens, "Wait here a moment whilst I go and speak to the High King." Without giving her the opportunity to reply he bounded off, heading into the castle, leaving Ellen alone in the courtyard. She stood there awkwardly for five or so minutes, scanning the courtyard for Mahlirra without success; it would be hard to meet the Kings and Queens without Mahlirra by her side, but she was certain that she was alright. Mahlirra was old enough to look after herself and Cair Paravel was a welcoming place. Ellen looked up to see Sir Beverell come bounding back.

"Well?"

"They are very intrigued," Sir Beverell answered, "Come on then – Queen Lucy in particular is very excited to meet you."

Ellen gave one last look around the courtyard, hoping to see Mahlirra appear but she couldn't see the dryad girl, so instead Ellen followed after Sir Beverell by herself. They walked along a long wide corridor with floor length windows on one side, looking out to the ocean, before halting by a set of large double doors.

"They're waiting for you in there," Sir Beverell said, "I must be getting back to the gate – Betty never has the patience with being on watch."

"Thank you," Ellen said, "You've been very kind."

"It's nothing," Sir Beverell said, "I'm sure I'll see you again." He doffed his hat and strode off, back along the corridor, the curls of his blond hair bouncing about. Ellen hesitated a moment by the doors before pulling herself together and pushing them open.

She gasped a little: the room the Kings and Queens were seated in was their Throne room. It was beautiful and so very large. There were pillars, at the top giving way to ornate arches, either side of the door, leading all the way down to the opposite end where the four thrones stood. The stonework was cream and light and splendid. As Ellen started to walk down towards the thrones her footsteps echoed on the marble floor. As she got nearer she could see that behind the thrones was an ornate stained glass window which allowed a glorious golden coloured light to filter into the hall. It was enchanting.

She stopped just before the steps leading up to the thrones. She attempted a curtsey before the Kings and Queens of Narnia, and stumbled a little. Straightening herself back up, she saw that they were not as old as she had thought. Why, the younger two were her age! The blonde haired, older boy (for he could not be older than twenty-one) began to speak.

"Welcome to Narnia," he said, "We have been told that you are from Calormen; apparently you were enslaved there."

"Yes," she answered, "When I was only young, my brother and I were captured by a merchant and then sold into slavery, initially to a powerful tarkheen."

"This merchant," it was the younger boy, with black hair, "What type of merchant was he."

"Slave," she said, looking at him, "He was a slave merchant, hence my being sold as a slave." She looked at him; he raised his eyebrows. "I do not mean to be impertinent your majesty but-"

"I take no offence," he said, slightly coldly, "It was an obvious question."

"Carry on, dear lady," said the beautiful, older girl with blue eyes and brown flowing hair, "Ignore his majesty, King Edmund, and do finish the tale, sad though it is."

"Well," Ellen carried on, "This tarkheen, though powerful and rich, was not particularly nice to his slaves: those he considered below him." Her face hardened as she said this but she continued with the same calm and steady voice. "For many years I wished to escape but I had nowhere to go. Finally, after a long time, I... well... I...," She tailed off before finishing her sentence slightly different to how she had intended; "I looked to the north."

"To Narnia." Looking up Ellen saw that it was the youngest, hard to think of as a Queen at first glance, but she seemed to have a deep joy about her that went beyond her smile. She was looking at Ellen, her eyes intent, "So you travelled north to Narnia."

"Not straight away, your majesty. You see," She paused a moment before carrying on; "There were rumours about that the lands to the north, beyond the Great Desert. That they were lands of ice and snow, ruled by a witch with a heart as cold as the land she had created."

"And so they were," said the older boy, "But we defeated the White Witch."

"It was not only us, Peter," said the young girl, "Aslan helped us."

"So he did Lucy, so he did."

"Aslan," Ellen said, "You know of Aslan."

"Of course we do," said the older girl with a laugh, "Who does not?"

"Come now, Susan," said King Edmund, "How is she supposed to know? She has only recently arrived."

"No," Ellen said, "Of course you know of Aslan." She smiled before continuing, "It was Aslan who told me to come here, to travel to Narnia. About six months ago he came to me; he told me that I must travel north, to find what I was looking for and well... here I am."

"You spoke with Aslan." The Queen Lucy smiled.

"Yes your majesty."

"How wonderful," Queen Lucy said, "But you needn't call me 'your majesty': we're going to be great friends. I can tell."

"What happened to your brother – your twin?"

The question seemed to change the atmosphere in the room somewhat. It was King Edmund who asked it. His head was cocked slightly to the side as he stared at Ellen thoughtfully. She avoided eye contact, instead looking down at her hands.

"I," She took a breath and forced herself to look up; "He left me behind when he escaped." Her voice broke slightly. She had tried to avoid confronting this awful fact; her brother, her twin brother had abandoned her. Mentioning it to King Lune and Turil had been hard enough, but that King had moved the conversation away from the topic. This King was bringing it up. And now she felt as if she would cry. And in front of the Narnian monarchs too! She bit her tongue to hold back any tears.

"So that's why you've come here," King Edmund said, "To try and find the brother who abandoned you."

"Ed!" Peter glared at his brother. Ellen turned around, to hide her tears from the Kings and Queens.

"Oh you poor dear," Queen Susan said, and she got up off her throne and came over to Ellen. So did Queen Lucy but whilst Susan tried to comfort her, Lucy instead took her hand and gently led her from the hall.

"Come, I will show you the castle and your chambers," she laughed gaily, "And tomorrow I must take you to see where we first arrived in Narnia. We shall have such fun together!" Ellen wiped the tears from her eyes and smiled.

"Thank you." Ellen had never met someone like Lucy. Lucy had realised that Ellen hadn't wanted to cry in front of them, so had taken her out of the situation. Queen Susan was kind, of course she was, but Queen Lucy had a different sort of kindness; one that only comes from real compassion.

"So," said King Peter once Queen Lucy and Ellen had left the room, "What do you make of her?"

"She seems such a sweet child," said Queen Susan, "And what a terrible time she has had in Calormen."

"Yes," Edmund said, "Though why she would come here to find a brother who abandoned her I don't know!"

"Well that's a bit rich coming from you," Susan said, "Perhaps she wants to forgive her treacherous brother – I think I can relate to that." Edmund became rather quiet at this.

"That's a low blow Susan," Peter said to her. She bit her lip and went over to Edmund, placing her hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she said gently, "I just think that her forgiveness surely shows strength rather than weakness." Edmund didn't say anything. Susan sighed, before turning to leave, "I'm going to practice now." She picked up her bow, "Do buck up Ed – you've been sulking ever since we decided on that incident in the west."

"Come on Edmund," Peter said, once Susan had left the Throne room. He came over to his brother, "Do stop sulking."

"I'm not sulking!"

"Yes you are," Peter said, smirking a little, "You're sulking because you wanted to go hunting for wolves."

"Werewolves," Edmund corrected him, "There was a good chance that those creatures were werewolves."

"Perhaps," Peter said, "But now they're gone. So there's no need to worry." He smiled at his brother before striding out of the room, leaving King Edmund alone on his throne.

"I hope so," he said to the empty room, "I really hope so."


	9. Dappled Light

Queen Lucy leapt down steps and ran through archways, dragging Ellen along with her. The people they passed smiled at the sight of their beloved Queen and her new apparent friend; they were both of a similar age, Ellen being sixteen compared to Queen Lucy who was fifteen. Lucy had spent the whole afternoon showing Ellen every single nook and cranny of Cair Paravel and was now taking Ellen through the hidden entrance into her secret courtyard of willow trees. Inside the courtyard it was like being in a series of rooms full of green woven tapestries, the branches of the willow trees hanging low to the ground, shielding each separate tree trunk and its surrounding area in a small private space.

"Oh my," Ellen said in wonder as they moved through the courtyard, pushing willow branches gently aside and wandering around each of the trees, "We must show Mahlirra this," she told Lucy, "Her father's a willow tree."

"Of course," Lucy said. Ellen had told Lucy about Mahlirra during their exploration of the palace and Lucy had assured her that Mahlirra would be safe no matter where she was in the palace for everyone was kind and welcoming at Cair Paravel. "Why," she continued, "She might have already found it."

"How?!" Ellen exclaimed, "There's no way anyone who didn't know where it is could find this: it's so well hidden!"

"Oh but the Willow is a part of her," Lucy said, sitting down at the base of one of the trees, "With dryads it's intrinsically part of them: they can sense other trees of the same type. She'd be drawn to this place no matter what!"

"But she's not fully a dryad," Ellen said, sitting beside the Queen, "Would being a half-dryad have the same effect?"

"How would I be able to tell?" Lucy asked, laughing, "I hardly know her, and half-dryads are few and far between. Perhaps she would, perhaps she wouldn't. Who knows?" She laid her head against the tree trunk and closed her eyes. Ellen mimicked her movements and stared up at the green canopy above them. It was so beautiful here, so peaceful.

The willow trees sighed in the wind, their branches lifting a little off the ground. The light that made its way through the branches was dappled and made dancing patterns on the green of the grass. A little way off Ellen could hear a gentle splashing sound, as if someone was paddling in the pond nearby. She lifted her head up suddenly – there was someone doing just that; she could hear them talking quietly. There must be two people. She turned to Lucy who put her fingers to her lips in a gesture of silence. Standing up, she moved towards the voices, pushing her way through the willow screen into the next area. Ellen followed. They were now in a willow area just next to the pond. The voices were much clearer here.

"This place is incredible," came a male voice. Lucy grabbed Ellen's arm in surprise; it was her brother, the High King Peter, "How come I've ruled from Cair Paravel for seven years and yet never found it. I bet Lucy knew it was here!"

"It was very well hidden," came the reply. Ellen started at the sound of this voice; it was Mahlirra. "I only knew it was here because I could sense it. Like some part of me was drawn to those stone steps."

"The dryad part?"

"Yes," Mahlirra said, "My father is a willow tree. His forest is in Archenland."

"And you have come here to find your mother?"

"Yes that's right," she replied, "I came with Ellen."

"Ah yes," Peter said, "We spoke with her earlier this afternoon and then Lucy took her off to explore the castle. Everywhere, as she said – and I'm sure she'll manage it somehow!" Mahlirra's laugh could be heard but then she seemed to quieten a little when Peter asked: "But your mother?"

"Yes," Mahlirra said, "Well I've always thought that she was Narnian so... well..." For some reason she tailed off.

"Well," King Peter interjected, and Lucy and Ellen strained their ears to hear the next part as he lowered his voice to a tender whisper, "I hope you'll let me help you." A stronger breeze blew past Ellen and the branches in front of her drew apart for a second, giving her a glimpse of the scene on the other side.

They sat on the opposite side of the pond, right next to the water. The High King sat with his trousers rolled up to his knees and his feet submerged deep in the water of the pond. Mahlirra sat close beside him, her legs curled beneath her, propped up on her hand. King Peter was leaning in, looking down at her face, smiling gently. She was looking up at him, her head cocked slightly to the side, a look of blissful rapture on her face as she stared back at him. Their faces leant in closer and the willow branches swung back, preventing Ellen from seeing anymore. She turned to look at Lucy, who had gone slightly pink.

Without a word they quietly made their way out of the courtyard. Once they were a fair distance away, Lucy turned to Ellen.

"So that was Mahlirra?"

"Huh?" Ellen asked, looking a bit out of it. That must have been where Mahlirra had gone when she disappeared – to the courtyard of willows. And then she must have met the High King...

"She's beautiful." Lucy said, walking over to the parapet that looked to the west. In the distance they could see the sun sinking beyond the horizon. "Though we shouldn't have overheard that."

"No," Ellen said slowly and came and stood next to her, "Though you were right about the whole dryad sensing thing."

"We can't tell anyone," Lucy added, "Peter wouldn't want anyone to know; it's such a personal thing."

"Yes," Ellen said, still pondering over what she had seen. Of course she had realised that Mahlirra was beautiful and King Peter would probably agree with her– but she hadn't really thought her so... Ellen couldn't think of the word. So mature perhaps? Mahlirra was older than Ellen and Lucy, but Ellen wasn't sure how old. Old enough to kiss a King, she thought vaguely.

"What's she like?" Lucy asked, turning to Ellen urgently and pulling her out of her thoughts, "Is she nice? What does she like to do? Will they get on?"

"Woah," Ellen said, "So many questions!" She smiled, "Mahlirra is more than just nice: she is the sweetest and most gentle person I've ever met. She wouldn't hurt a fly."

"Oh good," Lucy said, "And what does she like?"

"Well," Ellen said, "I haven't know her too long but she's a brilliant rider – much better than me -"

"But you can ride?" Lucy said cutting across her, "You can ride, right?"

"Oh yes," Ellen said and then frowned, "Why do you ask?"

"Oh good," Lucy said relieved, "Get up early tomorrow: we've got a long ride."

"What?" Ellen looked at Lucy in confusion, "Where are we going?"

"I have to show you Lantern Waste – where we first came to Narnia. And I can tell you what happened and everything!"

"Ok," Ellen said, "But where is it? Where are we headed?" Lucy smiled and turned to look out over the parapet before answering Ellen with one simple word.

"West."


	10. Into the West

Their horses thundered along the forest path, both girls laughing and shouting to one another as they did. It was late afternoon and the sun was shining, slipping through the leaves of the trees to create dappled patterns on the forest floor. As they rode they would call out to passing creatures of the forest who were initially startled by the noise that they were making, but when they realised it was Queen Lucy and her new found friend, they would smile - such was the joy that the presence the Valiant Queen brought.

“Lucy,” Ellen cried, “Are we nearly there? It feels like we’ve travelled through all of Narnia today and we still haven’t arrived!”

“Don’t worry Ellen,” Lucy called back, “We’re almost there! I recognise it.”

“We’re not going to be heading back today are we?”

“Of course not,” Lucy laughed, “But Mr Tumnus is staying at his home this week – to get away from court – and he said we can come and stay whenever we want.”

“Are we not seeing Lantern Waste then?”

“Yes silly,” Lucy said, slowing her horse to a trot to allow Ellen to catch up, “But I want you to meet Mr Tumnus – he’d just left court when you arrived.”

“Alright then,” Ellen said, “How long till we get there?” Lucy pulled her horse up to a halt and dismounted.

“It’s just down here,” she said, “Come on.” And she led her horse off the path and down into a dell. Ellen swung herself down and made to follow her friend but a loud snarling noise from the other side of the path had Silver spooked. She reared up and galloped off down the path, in the opposite direction to the way they had come.

“No! Silver, come back!” Ellen shouted after the retreating horse.

“What is it?” Lucy’s head appeared over the edge of the slope.

“Silver just spooked,” Ellen said, “There was a snarling coming from over there and she just took off up there.”

“She’ll slow down soon enough,” Lucy said, “Come on; let’s go get her.” She led her stallion, Brinn, back up the slope and jumped on. Ellen clambered up behind her and they set off, at a brisk trot, after the spooked mare.

It was dark and there was a full moon in the sky by the time they finally spotted Silver up ahead: she must’ve galloped for a long while before slowing. Lucy spurred her horse on and they soon were riding parallel with Silver who had now slowed to a steady walk. Ellen slipped off Brinn and grabbed the reins around Silver’s neck.

“Woah girl.” She said in a calm voice, “Steady now.” Silver was much calmer now, no doubt because of her long gallop and Ellen was able to easily get back in the saddle.

“Let’s get back to Mr Tumnus’,” Lucy said, “We’ve come much further west than I’ve ever been before. And it isn’t safe.”

Ellen nodded in agreement but before either of them could turn their horses around there came a terrible howling from their right. Silver, a much more nervous creature than Brinn, gave out a loud whiny and reared her head back but Ellen calmed her somewhat by making hushing noises. Brinn pawed the ground nervously. Ellen looked at Lucy who had gone white.

“What was that?” Ellen whispered, her voice shaking and her hands trembling.

“A wolf,” Lucy said, her face pale, “Or worse. Oh I wish we’d listened to Ed.”

“What?” Ellen asked confused, “Why?”

“Oh it doesn’t matter now,” Lucy answered, “Come on – we need to get back to Mr Tumnus’ – right now.” She turned Brinn around and Ellen made to follow her when there was another terrible howling, this time to their left. It was much louder and worse, coming from somewhere much closer.

Before Ellen could think, Silver was galloping away, heading further west. Her gallop was uncontrollable, fuelled by pure fear of whatever the thing was. Ellen clung on for dear life as she heard Lucy calling to her. But her voice was becoming more and more distant as she was taken further away from her.

“Silver, woah,” Ellen said, attempting to calm her down. But it was much harder to calm a frightened horse when you yourself are terrified and only just managing to hold on.

 She felt a sinking sense of doom as they charged further and further west; the trees rushing past her were getting taller and taller and denser and denser, and the forest surrounding her was silent save for the thudding of Silver’s hooves. Not many Narnians came this far west. They had before the White Witch but the hundred year winter had driven them further from the borders. This part of Narnia, the Western March, was a part of Narnia that was on the border with the Western Wild, and it had not yet regained a sense of safety and security under the Pevensie’s rule that the rest of Narnia had. It was said that the majority of the remnants of the White Witches army had fled west after the Battle of Beruna to seek refuge in the Western Wild.

Silver was starting to slow. The poor creature was exhausted after riding all day and this mad gallop west had taken it out of her. Ellen took advantage of her exhaustion and pulled gently on the reins. Silver slowed to a walk and then came to a halt, her head hanging low. Ellen gave her a long rein and tried to take her bearing. They had stayed on the path which was something because Lucy had told her that the path just went directly west all the way to the border. She supposed she was probably very close to this border.

Ellen felt in the saddle pouches for her water and found it was missing. It must have fallen out at some point in the mad charge of fear and terror. She sighed but then she listened... Was that water she could hear? It sounded like it – bubbling or roaring away just to her left – a river or stream? She slipped off Silver’s back and took a firm hold of her reins and led her through the moonlit forest after the sound of the bubbling water.

Silver’s occasional snorting and her warm presence just by Ellen’s right shoulder were a comfort to her as they walked through the wood. The terrible howling and what it might have been kept slinking into her mind but she tried to forget about it. There wasn’t anything she could do about that now. Silver was too exhausted to get back to Lucy quickly. What they needed now was water and that’s what Ellen was hopefully getting them to. The problem was the forest was dense and there were large thorn bushes that blocked her path which she had to keep going around or areas of densely packed trees which didn’t leave enough space for a horse to get through.

“Oh bother!” She cried as she came across another thorn bush, much bigger than the others she had come across. What made it worse was the fact that she could hear the water, right on the other side of the bush!

At that moment a huge black cloud passed across the moon leaving her and Silver in complete darkness. Silver pawed the ground nervously and uttered a quiet whiny. From the other side of the thorn bush came an answering growl. Silver started to back away from the bush, whinnying in fear. Ellen switched sides so that she was on the other side of Silver, holding the reigns with firmly with her left hand. With her right she slowly drew her sword. She could hear the padding of large paws on the other side of the bush, moving to her right. Silver backed away from the sounds.

“Come on then!” Ellen shouted, trying to sound brave but the falter in her voice gave her away. The growling grew louder, coming from just to the right of the bush. At that moment the moon came out from behind the cloud and lit the forest with its silvery light.

Ellen’s knees almost gave way. She heard Silver make a sound that almost sounded like a scream and the reins were wrenched from her grasp as the terrified mare ran away. Ellen tightened her grip on her sword and pointed it at the monster before her. Her hands shook.

It was a wolf. But its limbs were longer and thinner than a wolf’s ought to be. Its paws were almost hand like and extenuated by long sharp claws. It stood, not on all fours like a normal wolf should, but on its hind legs, standing taller than Silver had she stayed. What terrified Ellen the most however, was none of these horrendous physicality’s, but rather its eyes. They were not the eyes of a dumb beast but the eyes of a human man. Intelligent yet brutal and dark, full of hatred and evil.

She raised her sword, and called out the name of Aslan. The werewolf snarled and then pounced.


End file.
